


Chasing the Morning

by BaileyShmailey



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, OOC, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, both Shilo and Graves are OOC, kinda slowburn, not majorly but enough
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 20:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15849267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaileyShmailey/pseuds/BaileyShmailey
Summary: Chase the Morning. Yield for Nothing. Some people just thought of those as song lyrics from an old song from a dead singer, but for Shilo, it was advice. And after the Opera, she's taking it and running. Maybe with a charming Graverobber at her side.





	1. Chapter 1

The Night of the Opera

She faced the stunned crowd outside the gore filled building and slowly walked towards the waiting limo. Her skin felt stiff where the blood was drying, the metallic scent filling her nose as she got in the car. As she waited for the driver to get into his seat, the door to her left opened and a long-haired figured dashed into the car. Shilo’s jaw dropped as she realized it was Graverobber. The pops of light as they began to drive by street lamps made the colors in his hair glow with a yellow tinge.

“Hey kid. You look different, do somethin’ with your hair?” he joked, attempting to ease her tension. The blood on her skin made him cringe. Sure the world they lived in was shit, but seventeen year old girls don't deserve to be poisoned by their fathers and then watch said father die after being offered a massive company by the man who killed their father. Shilo gaped at him, the shock and horror from the night settling into her mind. Graverobber continued to talk to her, or more so at her as she appeared to have closed herself off.

When they pulled up to the old Victorian, Graverobber pushed the door Shilo was next open and nudged her out of the limo. The car pulled away as he shoved the wrought iron gate open and led her up the stairs to the front door. After hunting for a hidden key to open said door, Graverobber sighed and picked Shilo up, carrying her to the nearest bathroom bridal style. He sat her on the edge of the dingy claw foot tub and reached behind her to turn on the water. As the tub filled with hot water, he unlaced her boots and peeled off her black thigh highs.

He stood and pulled her up to stand as the room filled with steam, “Get in the tub, I’ll be out in the hall if you need me,” he said closing the door behind him.

Shilo turned to face the foggy window, squinting her dark eyes at the black blob in the reflection. She shimmied out of her mother's blood soaked dress and kicked it near the door as she pulled off her sticky wig, which ended up on top of the dress. She grasped the pendant at her neck for a moment before she yanked it off, breaking the chain. It landed in the garbage can next to the toilet with a thunk. As she lowered herself into the scalding water, her mind went into overdrive. The part of her brain that wasn't making decisions and filing the event of the night away was amazed at how calm she was. She had spent seventeen years locked away in this house and was free at last. This would be her last night in her decrepit castle. She closed her eyes and sank deeper into the water, holding her breath as she held herself under water. She saw the bright flashes that were the gunshots Rotti had fired in the dark and her eyes popped open as she jerked out from the water.

After wrapping herself in a ratty black robe, she gathered her soiled clothes and wig and turned her back on the pink water and opened the door. Graverobber looked up from his seat across the hall as Shilo came out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam. Her skin was tinged pink, from the heat of the water, and not blood. Her just stared at her, studying her, taking in the way the robe swallowed her short frail frame and the fact that she was bald. Nathan’s confession about poisoning Shilo popped into his mind after a second and nodded to himself. He pushed himself up and followed her as she walked to the kitchen. He watched as she pulled a glass from a cabinet and she filled it with filtered water from the ice chest. She took a deep drink and held in in her mouth as she settled on the decisions she had made. She flicked her eyes up to Graverobber as she swallowed the water. In the harsh lights in her house, she could make out his features better. She studied his sharp nose, his sharp cheekbones, his thin lips, and the makeup that caked his pale skin. She tilted her head to the left as she looked down to check out his body. He was a few inches taller than her, a lot older than her but younger than her father. She liked all the colors he had streaked through his long hair. He had hung his his coats on the banister after leaving her in the bathroom which let her notice how in shape he was, the mustard yellow shirt was tight around his arms and shoulders and she was fascinated by the swath of dark curly hair on his chest. He cleared his throat and she looked up at his blue eyes and then away quickly, her face burning red.

“Like what you see, kid?” he leered, cocking an eyebrow.

Shilos head jerked towards him. “I’m not a kid. I get that I’m seventeen, but I have been through hell and back and I still have my head on right, give me a break,” she said, exasperated.

Graverobber held his hands up, aquising her. “You’re right, I’ll lay off,” he lowered his hands, “What are you gonna do now?” he asked, leaning on his elbows on the counter.

Shilo sighed. “While I was in the bath I made some decisions,” she pushed herself up to sit on the counter, “I’m gonna sell his, hers, and my jewelry, take whatever money he has and move out. Knowing him, there's probably a pile of cash somewhere hidden in this place,” her eyes swept over the room, trying to think of all the hiding places her father could have.

“Princess wants to leave the castle?” he asked, surprise tinging his voice.

“This place is filled to the brim with him and her. Her photos line the walls, there are locks on my bedroom door, I cannot breathe in here Graverobber,” she explained, her shaking hands reaching up to her shaved head.

“Hey, hey, whoa, it's cool, calm down. I totally get why you wanna leave,” he pushed her water close to her thigh and she grabbed it, taking a big gulp.

“I know it's a lot to ask, and you’ve already done a lot for me, especially, you know, almost getting me killed by GeneCops, but can you help me find a place?” she asked, her finger tracing the rim of the glass. She glanced up at him under thick lashes and watched his eyes watch her fingers.

“Ah yes, the fateful night we met. Yeah I guess I can help you out,” he chuckled, “By the way, you can call me Graves.”

She smiled at him. “You can call me Shilo.”


	2. On a Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shilo needs help. Not that kind of help. The apartment hunting kind of help.

The Evening After the Opera 

Shilo jerked out of her nightmare to the sound of pounding on the front door. She checked her watch as she stood and groaned at the time, 7:45 pm. She had overslept. As she walked from the musty couch in the living to the door, she reached her hands up to adjust her wig but found her head uncovered and she ran her fingers over the soft, almost black fuzz on her scalp. She recognized his long dark coat coat and swung the door open.

“Sorry, I overslept. Gonna run upstairs and change, make yourself at home,” she said gesturing to the darkly lit home before she dashed upstairs to her childhood prison.

The ruffles in her closet reminded her of her father, the clothes he had always brought home were black and frilly, gothic yet youthful. She sighed as she pulled a knee length skirt up over her hips and tucked a long sleeved lacy blouse in. For once, the socks she wore stopped at her ankle but were trimmed in lace that peeked out from her combat style boots. The heels clicked as she made her way downstairs to see Graves studying one of many portraits of her mother.

“He always said I had her eyes,” she said quietly, walking over to stand beside him.

He looked down at her, back at the hologram, and back to Shilo. “Nah, you look like you, ki- Shilo,” he said smirking at her, “C’mon lets get outta here.”

 

* * *

 

“Ugh this place is grosser than the second one! Graves what the hell!” she said, exasperated. This third place was disgusting, the rats not even bothering to hide, scrambling around their feet. At least at the second place they were hiding in the walls. The first place appeared rodent free, but Graves assured here that in that part of town, rats were more common than humans.

She heard him chuckle as he walked ahead of her, the dim yellow streetlights making the rainbow in his hair glow. “Calm down kid, the next place is better,” he said before jogging after a GeneCo dumpster truck and grabbing on and much like the night of the carnival, she scrambled after him in her heeled boots and latched onto the rusted handle and pulled herself up.

“How do you know about all these places? I thought you lived in dumpster,” she panted.

He barked out a deep laugh. “I have lots of living spaces. A dumpster here, a room in someone else’s house there, maybe a night or two in a graveyard after a fresh dumping. I get around,” he explained shrugging, “I do actually own a place though, the apartment we’re headed is close to it,” he said. Shilo hummed in acknowledgement as she watched the smoggy city pass.

She trailed behind him an hour later, the hood of her long black coat pulled over her head as the rain poured down on them. The area they were in looked so much better than the previous apartments and Shilo was immensely grateful. She didn't want to seem like a snob, but she had grown up in a mansion, an albeit dark and fading mansion but still a mansion. She was surprised, as she remembered Graves had mentioned that he lived nearby, that a Z peddler like him could afford to live in an area as nice as this. Though she supposed that he got paid in credits once in a while instead of sex.

“Now that you're on your own, do you think you’ll ever go under the knife?” he asked as they walked.

Shilo scrunched her nose in disgust. “Never. There’s nothing wrong with me. Well, outwardly at least,” she said, walking faster to keep up with his long legs.

“Sure but what about your insides? Your organs? What if the poison has royally fucked up your guts?” he asked, slowing so he could walk with her.

Shilo thought that over for a moment. “I never thought about that to be honest. Um. Well I guess I’ll find out when I run out of medicine,” she sighed.

Graves jerked to a stop. “You're gonna keep taking that shit?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Shilo stopped next to him, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Well I mean yeah. Should I not?” she asked looking up him.

“You should definitely stop ingesting poison Shilo.” he said condescendingly.

Shilo rolled her eyes. “I hear you and you have a point but that medicine is all I know. What if I die after not taking it after a few days?” she asked as her mind filled with hundred of scenarios.

Graves sighed as he thought her words over. “You also make a good point. I um I could keep an eye on you?” he suggested.

Shilo studied him. “How?”

“The city is full of untapped bodies. Zydrate harvesting is a thankless job to be honest. I could use some help,” he said, shrugging. It sounded like a good idea in his head.

Shilo’s head cocked to the left as she thought it over. “Let me check the place out and think this over,” she said, nodding towards the apartment with a red ‘For Rent’ sign in the window.

He led them up to a dented black door and knocked three times, signaling his realtor friend that they had arrived. Shilo still couldn't get over the fact that he sold Z to a licensed realtor. Shilo still couldn't get over the fact that there were licensed realtors on the island. The yellow haired woman - Steph - opened the door with a bright smile.

“Take the dumpster here?” she asked, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Naturally,” Graves replied, walking around the living room.

Shilo was still standing in the doorway, jaw hanging open in shock. The place was nice and clean. “This can’t be right. It's so… Clean!” she exclaimed.

Steph cocked her head to the side and looked at Shilo in confusion and looked over at Graves. “You didn't tell her?”

“Yeah I told her I lived nearby.” he said, enunciating the word lived, hoping Steph would take the hint and shut up. Her neon head tilted to the opposite side as she studied Graves and Shilo. She was impressed with the latter, the entire Island was to be honest.

After it came out that everything that happened at the Opera wasn't part of the show, the poorer residents were appalled by the Largo’s while the rich were left confused about how they would be getting new parts. When Amber had proclaimed that she was in charge, there was a collective sigh of relief from the wealthy and an uproar from the impoverished. At meetings in alley’s after Zydrate Addiction meetings, the penniless would whisper about ways to take control away from the Largo’s and their greedy, shady fingers. Graves had heard murmurs of an uprising, they were just waiting for their leader to realize they wanted to lead.

Steph followed Shilo into the kitchen, watching the young girl as she studied the cracked counters. “It isn't perfect but I know it's better than the previous places,” she said.

“Why did you show me those shitholes first if you had this one?” Shilo asked.

Steph grinned at her. “I always save the best for last.”

Shilo nodded. “This is definitely the best. I think I want it but I wanna take a day to think it over, make sure I’m making the right decision.” she explained, watching Graves walk around whistling a Blind Mag song. “Graves? Are you coming back to mine to help me finish packing?” she called out.

He popped his colorful head in the kitchen. “Yeah, no problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: ohnoitsbailey.tumblr  
> twitter: @ohnoitsbailey  
> also, can you guys help me figure out a "real" name for Graves. I know a lot of people use Terrances name, and I might, but I kinda like the idea of a new name for Graves.


End file.
